


Strip Poker on Fridays

by orphan_account



Series: Newspaper!stuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Complicated Relationships, Davesprite is Byrd, Hookups and Bad decisions, Humanstuck, Journalism, Lots of Unrequited Love, Multi, Newspapers, Onesided, Past Relationship(s), Self-Harm References, Substance Abuse, love quadrangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The humans work for the prestigious, but not so well known newspaper dubbed The Neighborhood. The trolls, (who are not actually trolls, but humans), work at the dead end paper known as the Alternia. When a headline and article are stolen and used, shit hits the fan and the two papers collide in one of the most epic battles known to the journalism industry of all time. Throughout this endless turmoil, friendships are made, romances are forged (and broken), Dave's quest for ironic supremacy will lead him to Hawaiian shirts, Karkat will remove his sweater in a sexual fashion, Rose will make out with Jade, Kanaya, and the first's (ex-?) boyfriend, Sollux will be caught in a love...quadrangle, Dirk will start some incest and create undoable problems, Terezi will be blind (as usual) and Gamzee will royally flip his shit upon Tavros (no surprise there). Only one thing will remain constant- strip poker on Fridays. Humanstuck AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction to the Neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

> To my lovely friend Caity, who needs to make an account here and start reading Homestuck. And to Nieves, my totally awesome pink-lemonade friend. More fairly important notes at the end, so please read them!

"For the last time Dirk, absolutely not!" Jade slammed the phone back into its cradle and dropped her head into her palms and gave a deep, desperate, sigh. The type of sigh a disappointed mother gives when she catches her son sneaking into the kitchen to eat the last piece of pie that she specifically told him she was saving for her sister, or the sigh a father gives when his son crashes his brand new Porsche into the neighbor's fence during a joyride. So, in short, an exceedingly disappointed, angry, exasperated sigh.

"What's up?" That had to be John. Jade looked up to see the not entirely unwelcome sight of her cousin, clad in a light blue flannel shirt, faded jeans, and a million watt smile leaning up against her desk. John always was, and probably always would be, a sight for sore eyes. His eyes were an outrageous shade of blue, his front tooth was slightly chipped (the result of a rabid bunny, a tree, and a bad sense of direction) and the permanently askew glasses perched on his nose. She probably would have been attracted to him if he weren’t, you know, her cousin. 

Jade groaned. "It's Dirk. Again. He wants me too publish that dumb story about the stupid possessed puppets, which are totally bogus. Byrd and Bro think that it's interesting, but, we all know their interests."

John gave her a rueful grin. "You two are going through a rough patch, huh?" 

“How could you tell?” Jade fiddled with the bands on her fingers- reminders. Right now, they detailed several menial chores- buy Byrd a couple beers, get a new deck of poker cards (for Fridays, obviously. Rose, being intoxicated, had spilled something that she wasn’t sure was legal all over hers. She’d had to burn it) and a couple ballpoint pens. She’d lost all of hers, or more aptly, had them stolen by Dave, of all people. “Like, seriously.”

“Usually you treat Byrd like, I don’t know, God’s gift to mankind.” John didn’t mean for the words to smart, but they did. Badly. She’s probably just oversensitive to the topic of him right now. “So, what did he do?” 

"You don’t want to know." John gave her a look that said yes, he really did want to know, and now, and if she didn’t give him a full detailed report he’d stuff cake in her shoes or set the infamous ‘Slimer’ of Ghostbusters on her or something equally drastic and stupid.

Jade removed her bulky glasses from her face and began rigorously massaging her temples. "He's been so- I don't know -distant, lately, and it's been driving me nuts. He just stares into space or calls people on his phone and when we do talk, we fight. It's really bad. Like, awful. He called me some things I really don’t want to repeat and I might have said something mean about his arm that I really regret and just- ugh!" Jade took a huge breath. "I'm just not sure I can deal anymore."

"And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I told Miss Jade Harley not to date my estranged brother with some serious issues which mainly regard his right arm. "

John's smile changed, morphing from the 'I'm sorry I'll offer comfort to you' look he most often used with her nowadays, to the 'dude good to see you time for a verbal fist bump' grin. "Dude, what are you wearing? Is that a Hawaiian shirt? As in, the kind all tourists wear and the kind that look totally permanently, totally, lame?"

Dave shrugged. "Rose assured me that this shirt would raise my coolkid irony by at least a thousand points, and guess what? It has. All I need is a strand of douchebag puka shells around my neck and I will be the ultimate presence of irony in this here building, exceeding even Bro. Besides, the thing’s fucking vintage and soft as hell."

"As if you ever could beat your Bro in terms of irony." A mellifluous voice let the lips of the fashionable, utterly gorgeous and absolutely flawless woman known as Rose Lalonde, who, today, was clad in the tallest black pumps and the shortest violet sweater dress Jade had ever seen. Thankfully, she was wearing leggings. Her short blonde hair was held back with a rhinestone-studded purple clip that was envied by half the office, even John, the polar opposite of anything fashionable. Jade began, as subtly as she could smoothing out the wrinkles in her long, tan, and ddnfinitelt dirty khaki skirt and adjusted her squiddles T-shirt, feeling entirely out of place. Hell, it wasn’t even Friday. Why was she dressed like this? Even Dave looked better, with that stupid red and green shirt that was maybe a little ironic and cool, skinny jeans, and bright red converse.  
Her insecurities almost melted away when Rose flashed her a slow, friendly smile. "Rough night?"

"Tell me about it. I kind of spent the night here avoiding him. ” Jade flashed her signature quirky grin and turned to resume her conversation with John, only to find he was, well, gone, and chatting it up with Dave. Rose's delicate, manicured hand replaced John's comforting one on her desk, and she found herself missing- which was ridiculous, he was like five feet away- her cousin. It's not as though she disliked Rose- she was her best female friend after all. But anyone within a foot of the lady was bound to be a little cowed.

"I am infinitely more qualified to discuss relationship problems than him, Jade." The said girl found her eyes fixed upon Rose's milky white thighs (they were, along with her butt, sitting plainly on her desk.) As quickly as she could, looked up to face Rose, hoping the fain pinkness on her cheeks didn’t show. The older girl gave her a reassuring smile, probably attributing the blush to either thanks or distress. 

"Hey!" John yelled. Jade wasn't sure if he was shouting at Rose, or if it was the fact Dave had him in a headlock. "I am not that bad at therapy!"  
Jade allowed her self a small, albeit tired, half-smile. "Remember the time you drove that one girl to tears outside the supermarket?"

John twisted out of the hold Dave had on his neck. Jade noted the way the blonde’s hands seemed to linger on him. "Not my fault! Remember, she asked for directions I didn't have. Also, her accent was so thick I couldn't understand a word she was saying. She was, like, German, right Dave?" John looked back to the man who was currently twisting his best-friend's arm behind his back.

"Nah. She was Russian," Dave gave a smirk, and Jade could only imagine what was going on behind those shades. She’d never seen his eyes. No one but John had, and he, the biggest gossip she knew, had been sworn to secrecy and was, for once, keeping that vow. "And you know what they say about Russian women. But Jade, why are you still dating that asshole? And yes, I know he's my strangled brother or whatever. He's still a dick."

"It's not-" Jade broke off. "He just has some problems. You know, insecurities. Regarding his," she gestured to her arm. "Lack of this."

Dave's lips twisted into an uncharacteristic, anti-ironic frown so different from his usual stoic expression. "Has he even tried dealing the problem? Rose agrees with me." At this, Rose gave an empathetic, vigorous, and somewhat apologetic nod. "That's the first step to healing or some horseshit, I don't know. He just grabs a beer and steps out on the roof, probably contemplating his and all of our gristly deaths until he has to pick up a shift at SkaiaMart. Don't deny it; I know it's true. He’s got alcohol problems, and his hair is a bright orange mohawk. That’s an obvious cry for help.”

Jade could feel a familiar pressure building behind her eyes- tears, or course. She seemed to be crying a lot these days over the dumbest things. Probably stress from the arguments and work, along with other things, like Grandpa. Dave hated Byrd, and she knew that, but-

"Don't talk about him that way." She choked out, and furiously rubbed her eyes. She would not cry in front of her friends. She would not embarrass herself that way.  
Something must have softened in Dave because his mouth transformed into a straight line, the lips pressed together, and he bent down till his chin rested on her desk. He’d never been able to stand seeing her cry, ever since they were kids. Rose and John looked a little awkward, standing together and edging away from the early-morning chaos, trying to pretend they weren't listening in. "Look. I'm not trying to be a massive asshole, but for as long as I can remember, Byrd has been a dick. Like, majorly." Jade gave a little half-laugh, half-sob. " I really don't think you two are good for each other. At all. It’s a vicious cycle or some shit that Rose keeps babbling about."

"'Kay." Jade sniffled. "I get that, okay? But I like him. And I'm not breaking up with him. It's just a phase. I swear." Her argument sounded weak even to her ears.

"Whatever." Dave stood and ruffled her hair, just like when they were kids. "It's to early to make a scene with my best chick-friend. And shit-" he swore, glancing at the gaudy, set-there-ironically fifties pinup girl themed clock mounted on the wall. "It's already seven. Should've been working half an hour ago." He slumped over to his desk, plopped himself in his chair, swiveled around and began booting up his Mac. "Alright everyone, man your stations!" John gave a reluctant groan but shuffled over to his desk. Rose followed suit.

The office was engulfed in silence until the four workers began typing, the familiar, methodical sound of fingers hitting keyboard filling the office. It almost seemed like today would be normal, free of all office drama but this morning’s. It might even be peaceful, of all things.  
And not a moment to soon the infamous Bro Strider, one of the four heads of the totally anti-ironically amazing and prestigious newspaper known as The Neighborhood, strode into the room holding a rolled up wad of newspaper and an angry look even his shades couldn't hide on his face.  
The newspaper wasn't the first thing that Jade noticed. In fact, it was the loud, colorful shirt he wore. A shirt of irony unparalleled. A shirt with a specific style and name. A Hawaiian shirt.  
In fact, it was an electric blue Hawaiian shirt emblazoned with neon orange flowers and leaves that was burned into her memory, along with a pair of black skinny jeans, a great butt, and Converse identical to Dave's. To top the whole thing off, a string of puka- of all things, puka- shells were strung across his neck.

Rose leaned across her desk. "Looks like he’s always one step ahead,” she whispered, a devilish smile playing across her lips. Dave grimaced. But right now, Bro didn't seem like his normally chill, laid-back self who enjoyed (and constantly won) irony contests. Now he was livid.

"Alright people, look at this." Bro said, his deep, undeniably masculine voice sending a shiver or two down Jade's spine. He was attractive. Even Dave admitted it. And John, for all his intolerance of homosexuality, had been caught staring at the eldest Strider's bottom for extended periods of time. It was very shapely. "This is very, very, bad." If Bro was serious, things had to be terrible.  
The four of them practically leapt out of there cubicles and to the giant table stationed in the center of the room, dubbed the ‘conference counter’, as it was where everyone in the company held meetings and gathered for important stuff. It was also, coincidentally, where the team played strip poker on Fridays. And another tidbit- John had lost last time. Gloriously.

"Tell me what this is." When no one moved, he barked the orders out once again. "Tell me what it is!"

John was the first to speak up. "It's the Alternia?" Bro scowled and flung the paper at his head. "Hey!"

"Read the damn headline." The three without the paper clustered around John, whose face had gone bone white, then a furious tomato red. 

"I don't believe it." Rose was the first to comment.

Dave was the first to state the obvious. "They stole our fucking headline." He hissed. Jade herself was shocked. No self-respecting newspaper company- scratch that, no newspaper company at all would steal their rival's headline. None. No way. It was just… preposterous. Scandalous. Implausible. A complete outrage in every possible way, shape, and form. It was a declaration of war. 

“I can’t believe it.” Jade murmured. “I wrote that article! I put seven different reminders on my fingertips! I didn’t sleep for hours, which is impressive, very, very impressive, considering my narcolepsy! There is no way they can be allowed to do this!”

John narrowed his eyes. “I am going to kick all of their asses all the way to Scandinavia.” He attempted to crack his knuckles, instead producing a weak popping sound that typically emanates from a computer geek.

“Why Scandinavia?” Dave muttered, assumedly scanning the paper out of his shades. Probably checking for mistypes or errors or any differences to prove that this was a different fucking article than the one they had.

“Hey,” Rose broke in. “Who’s the supposed author of this article?”  
The four leaned in, scanning for evidence. Two typed words, a name and surname, glared back at them.

Karkat Vantas.

This headline was word for word exactly like the one they’d published first. And since their paper wasn’t sold on the side of town the Alternia was published in…  
Well, that made it thievery, didn’t it? 

And thieves had to be punished. This Karkat Vantas, whoever he was, had to pay.


	2. Prelude to Alternia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am one of those people who writes Sollux's lisp out. I'm sorry. You've been warned.

“Fuck me,” Karkat muttered, scanning the remainder of his document. “There is no fucking way this is remotely conceivable.”

A desk away, Sollux sniggered, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. “Lookth like you fucked up, KK.” He batted his eyelashes behind his glasses. “Aw, poor baby, did the both reject your paper?” 

Karkat, still shocked at the rejection, swiveled around, a blatantly furious expression plastered across his face. “Fuck you asshole, she just doesn’t know how much goddamn work went into this paper!” He was shouting now, and the whole office (well, the six that were there) turned to look at him. Well, with the exception of Terezi, their resident blind girl, who just turned in the general direction of the yelling. “There was research in the field! -"You mean the theater," Sollux muttered- There were interviews! There was an astronomical amount of work that went into this single damn article. I slaved on it for days! And then the she-bitch just goes and fucking rejects it? Not okay!”

The whole office was sent into a stupor for a moment, and then a familiar mocking giggle was issued from one of the most hated members of the office.

“Nice job Kar,” Eridan’s voice, just like yesterday, was still graced with that infuriatingly odd accent that lent all his words an almost-German cadence. But, weirdly, enough, he was Irish. Or at least he looked it, with copious amounts of gelled red hair, pale skin, and a plethora of freckles. “Looks like you’ve been re-jec-ted!” He crowed, completely oblivious to the eye-rolls and dirty looks he was getting from the crowd.

Karkat opened his mouth, no doubt to unleash a cutting remark upon the hipster, but Sollux beat him to it.

“Like every article you’ve publithed hath been given an automatic thtamp of approval, ED. Most of them thuck ath.” Oh, he'd forgotten Eridan and Sollux's eternal rivalry-slash-pissing contest that had evolved from the time the two were in grade school, then in college, and finally, the workplace. It was almost romcom worthy. Maybe Eridan secretly harbored illicit feelings for Sollux's socially inept and way too pasty ass. Not that Karkat was one to talk, being as pale as the moon with a habit of insulting anyone he didn't know within a ten-mile radius.

“Thuck ath,” Eridan mocked. “Yeah, great jobs Sol. You’ve still got that retarded lisp of yours.” Each time he said one, he would clearly enunciate his S’s, mocking the brunette’s tooth-mangled lisp. However, he didn’t deny the success rate- or lack of one – of whatever he wrote. 

“Don’t be such a jerk, Eridan.” That was Feferi. Karkat shot her a grateful glance (he’d be damned if he’d ever admit to doing that) and she reciprocated with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. Feferi was seriously the best damn secretary they’d ever had and the only one person who Eridan, being the enormous douchefuck he was, would only listen to. His ex-girlfriend, the girl Sollux was currently attempting to court, and the longtime source of the two's animosity. Eridan clammed up, his lips easing into a pout as he and his obnoxious violet scarf ducked back to his computer. Sollux mouthed a ‘thanks’ to Feferi, who dark skin failed to hide her blush.

The door swung open, admitting a freezing blast of air into the room. Karkat shivered, pulling his sweater closer to him. Fucking December. Why did it have to be so cold? And who had the nerve to arrive at work an hour late?

A quintet made their way into the room: one, a tall, exceedingly built tan-skinned man with his hair pulled back in a slightly greasy ponytail. Another was a short, blonde blond teenager with a spring in her step, a plump Mexican girl with shadows under her eyes, and the last two: a tall, willowy, red haired and undeniably hot (and exceedingly bitchy) girl and a disheveled boy with a mohawk and a wheelchair.

Two desks away, a fashionable, jade-eyed Chinese lady noticeably stiffened when the redhead entered to room. This did not go unnoticed by Karkat, who sent a concerned glance her way.   
The girl didn’t notice; glaring daggers at Vriska otherwise preoccupied her.

“Hey, losers. Miss me?” The grade school insult would’ve sounded absolutely idiotic coming from anyone else, but with Vriska’s cocky attitude, it worked like a charm, projecting her arrogance throughout the building. God, she was a bitch. And after what she’d done to Kanaya and Tavros…  
Vriska all but strutted in, the low heels on her flats making the most annoying clacking sound on the floor. It was like she was reveling in the hatred of the office- even Aradia, the coldest, quietest and most apathetic copy editor you’d ever see, was practically seething on two’s behalf from the doorway. The walk with Vriska must have been awful. And as if to rub salt in the proverbial wound, she stopped by Kanaya’s seat, running her royal blue nails along the top of her computer. “Hey, Kan. Sweet of you to say hello.”

Kanaya flushed red to the tips of her ears, and pressed her face to the computer screen, trying, and failing, to ignore her ex. Karkat was seriously trying to pass a policy by the boss lady outlawing dating in the workplace because the amount issues here, on a normal day, was just retarded. On the other hand, that policy might not go well for him, seeing Terezi was here, but it would solve copious amounts of drama. Right? Vriska continued to leisurely lean over the cubicle's edge, whispering dirty words that made his ears flame from across the room, ignoring her ex’s obvious discomfort. Karkat gnawed at his lower lip, desperately trying to think of a solution to the problem here. Kanaya could- well, probably- handle herself. Well, in a normal situation because she had to be the toughest woman he'd ever met. But Vriska was something else entirely different from a normal situation.

Karkat stood, and in a voice entirely too gruff for his own good, said: “Fuck off, Vriska. Haven’t you done enough?” Big mistake; she could almost smell fear, like a dog. Karkat wasn’t scared, just… apprehensive. Being the quiet, snappy, broody, and maybe a bit unpleasant kid in school did make you nervous about confronting bullies of any age.   
Vriska drew herself to her full height, to Karkat’s disadvantage. Being short really sucked. Being a short, slightly depressed, underweight, messy-haired twenty three year old with the attitude of an angry bridge troll with a problem involving unrequited love helped nothing. Especially since all were things Vriska could needle.

“What, short stack?” Vriska grinned. It was predatory, exposing nearly all her teeth in the process. Kanaya resumed trying to shrink into her cubicle.  
Nepeta, the curly-haired, near-permanently cheerful blonde shot the two a panicked glance and opened her mouth to spout out some harsh words, but Equius set a calming, authoritative hand on her shoulder that she shrugged off. Being an intern, the nineteen year old had next to no authority over anyone, but Karkat had to respect how tough she could be, even when it was obvious she would lose.  
Equius bent down. “Nepeta now is not the time.” The younger girl huffed.

“Why not, Eq?” She hissed. “Vris is about to step all over Karkat, and you aren't going to do anything?” Equius just compressed his lips into a thin line and folded his arms, daring Nepeta to do anything more. The smaller girl huffed and folded her arms beneath her breasts.

Sollux whispered a muted “thit,” and began hurriedly typing something on his computer. Karkat dared a glance at the screen- a virus, of course, and probably for Vriska. That was how Sollux fought- dirty, sneakily and with computers.

“Eyes up here, Karkat.” Suddenly, Vriska was right in front and towering over him. Karkat was brought to the sudden realization that yes, Vriska was legitimately dangerous. This was the girl that had pushed Tavros down a really damn long flight of stairs that had irreparably damaged both his legs. This was the girl that had shamelessly fucked and cheated on both Kanaya and Tavros. She was a legitimate psychopath, and Karkat was, if he had to admit it, scared of her, one of the reasons he’d taken to avoiding her whenever possible. But right now, he was itching for a fight. “What’s your problem?”

Karkat’s scowl deepened. “You’re my motherfucking problem, bitch.” Maybe his knees were shaking like some punk-ass middle schooler about to get his ass handed to him on a damned silver platter, but he could handle himself in a fight. His dad, the worthless drunkard of a bastard that he was, taught him that much.  
Quick as a flash, Vriska’s expression changed from mocking cruelty to absolute fury. Her glare could melt iron. Karkat gritted his teeth and curled his fists, oblivious to the silent panicking going on around him. Sollux’s finger was hovering over the ‘enter’ button; Feferi had a finger above the silent alarm, Kanaya was chewing her lip bloody, and Tavros was gripping his wheelchair almost hard enough to dent the metal. Karkat raised his hand- Vriska mirrored the action- and they prepared to punch the ever loving shit out of each other. Karkat was just about to swing, thumb outside his fist, when-

“Hey, palebro.”

Karkat’s fist went slack at the familiar- overly so- voice. It was Gamzee, his sort of best friend. Yep, he was still wearing that overly obnoxious clown face paint, obscenely baggy, polka dotted pants, had huge, shadowy circles the size of his thumb beneath his eyes, a rat’s nest of hair, and the smell of pot rolled off of him in waves.  
The tension in the room defused- it was a gift Gamzee had, the ability to calm just about any aggressive or charged situation. He was a weirdo- one of those guys who had the nerve to talk about (and do) drugs in at work. But the oddest thing about the druggie today was the fact four people were with him- One a blonde douchebag-looking character with shades, a nerdy looking boy with glasses, another, albeit more fashionable blonde in a pair of pumps with he tallest heels he'd ever seen, and a dark-haired girl (also with glasses) in a khaki skirt and T-shirt.

Kanaya's eyes locked on the girl with the tall black pumps. She didn't utter a word, but another faint blush spread across her cheeks. Karkat gave a mental scoff.

"Gamzee," Karkat began, "do you want to tell me why the ever loving fuck you've brought four utterly tasteless strangers," his eyes locked on the shades-clad twenty something year old, who stiffened (so Karkat didn't like strangers. Sue him.) "Into our goddamn office?" His voice rose to a near hysterical pitch, to which Gamzee gave a lazy smile, his eyes unfocused and gazing at some point beyond Karkat's right shoulder

The taller man held up a pair of pacifying hands. "Whoa, motherfucker, just relax." His raspy voice grated on Karkat's nerves. "I brought these dudes in," he gestured vaguely in the angry looking stranger's direction, because they were lookin' for a certain someone at this here office. And what kind of chill motherfucker would I be if I didn't lend a lil' helping hand to someone who need it, you know?" 

"God, you piss me off." Karkat muttered. Hopefully Gam hadn't heard that. Sollux, from where he sat, gave a mangled snigger.

"Great job GZ. Annoying KK is never a wathte of time." The man gave a languid stretch, all bones and angles, and Karkat didn't miss the way Eridan stared at the flat piece of stomach that'd been exposed. Maybe his romcom effect theory hadn't been wrong after all.

Karkat gave an angry huff and folded his arms. "Yeah, whatever," he said, putting as much irritation as he could muster into the two words. He turned back to the quartet standing behind Gamzee. ""So, why are you here, anyways?"

The khaki skirt girl took a step forward. "We're looking for someone," she began. Her hands were trembling and not from fear or nerves- more like anger. "A Karkat Vantas."

Karkat blinked. "Yeah, that's me. What do you want?"

Quick as a flash, khaki skirt drew her hand up, -"Shit," Karkat thought-, and slapped him, hard and clean, across the face. His head near snapped around, and he gently felt around his cheek for the maple that was forming.

"You bitch!" He shrieked. "Wha' th' fuckin' hell was tha' for, ya fuckin' whore, I oughta-" Karkat's New Yorker accent had begun to surface, and by the time Sollux slapped a hand over his mouth and forcibly restrained him- Karkat wasn't above hitting a girl- the entire office was by his side, even their apathetic copy editor, Aradia.

Vriska's teeth were bared in an animalistic snarl. "The hell was that for?"

Eridan's normally sullen face was set in even deeper shadows. "Even I may not like Karkat, but that was really fuckin' uncalled for."

"You have no right-" Kanaya started.

Aradia watched the four in stony silence, the cogs in her mind turning.

"We have no right? This asshole-" Glasses boy pointed at Karkat, "Stole Jade's damned headline!"

The whole office was silent for a moment, disbelief plain on their features. Then Vriska gave a high, reedy giggle.

"Karkat, stealing a headline?" She said between laughs. "Noooooooo way. Karkat's got the honor of an entire military platoon- he'd rather quit his job or, I don't know, break his own legs-" she cast a glance towards Tavros- the dig hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone- "than steal an article. You guys are out of your minds."

The Goth, fashionable girl snatched he article of khaki skirt's- Jade, Karkat corrected himself- and spread it out. The front read 'Terrorist bombing in NY' where a couple pictures of smoke plumes, half-crushed airplanes and still-smoldering fires were shown. All were taken by a 'Dave Strider' and were surprisingly good. But to assume he'd ever write an article like this? \

Karkat could feel his eyebrows rising and jaw dropping in indignation.

However, it was Sollux who answered for him. "There ith no way Karkat wrote thith." Sollux lisped, belief evident in his voice. "Firtht of all, I would've theen it- I've been uthing hith computer for the patht few weekth."

Karkat turned, stunned. "Since when?" he asked, feeling a little injured and a lot violated. "And what fucking for?"

"Gameth and hacking, but that ithn't important." Like hell it wasn't- but Sollux had resumed his little speech. "KK doethn't write political mumbo-jumbo- he does reviewth. More thpecifically, movie reviewth." The office busted into grins, the topic of Karkat's writing being somewhat of a joke to all of them. "And thecond of all, hith writing ith a lot more...thtrongly worded."

"Yeah?" Said Shades, his voice charged with hostility. "Prove it."

Sollux snapped his fingers, and on cue, Nepeta rushed over to Karkat's desk and grabbed the article with the large red 'rejected' stamp over the front. Flipping back the front page, she began to read, in a voice as bubbly as a running brook.

"First off, this movie was a fucking disgrace to any one ever made. The special effects were...passable, I'll give it that, but the plot was A HEINOUS PIECE OF FANG-MANGLED SHIT." Nepeta screamed the last few words of the sentence, playing along with the bold typeface. "The romance sucked. I mean, the relationship was purely based on sex- so they were just fuck buddies. And the boyfriend was a moldy bag of dicks. His face would've been more appealing if they'd replaced his face with that. The woman, or should I say, complete and total-"

"That's the article you wrote?" Terezi sent a sidelong glance towards Karkat and cackled. "No wonder it was rejected."

"Shut your fucking mouth." Karkat hissed back.

"That doesn't mean he couldn't fake it!" Glasses boy with the dark hair butted in. He had buckteeth; a fact Karkat absentmindedly took note of- but then snapped out of it. Now was not the time for stupid observations.

"Enough honor for a military platoon, remember?" Terezi said, staring at the space she thought buckteeth was. In reality, she was a few feet off, but it was the thought that mattered, right? It was silly but it set Karkat's heart pounding.

Equius cleared his throat. The roomful of people pivoted to face the gym rat/full-time creep, who adjusted his cracked sunglasses. "If I may say something-"

"Go ahead, freak, no one's stopping you."

Equius sent a glare Vriska's way and continued. "If, ah, Karkat truly did steal your headline. Hypothetically, of course." He said, attempting to defend himself from the furious looks his co-workers sent him, "I am, er, sure he would have admitted to his crime and allowed himself punishment."

Everyone stared at Equius, uncomprehending, until Karkat shuddered and muttered, "I feel dirty." Nepeta gave a tiny grimace and shook her head.

The corner of Blonde with Shades’ mouth turned up, but at the sight of Jade's fury, resumed its neutral expression. "Listen, dipshits," he said. "You stole Jade's- no, our goddamn headline. So help me, if you don't 'fess up to what you did, we'll will take some drastic measures." Karkat got the sense that this guy wasn't the type who got angry often- or if he did, he kept it under wraps- so this was pretty damn major. 

Karkat lowered his voice to something he hoped sounded threatening. "Four against twelve, dipshit- and additionally, the twelve who didn't do a damned thing wrong- so who do you think's going to win?"

It was hot Goth chick, however, who spoke the final words. "Fine then. I Rose Lalonde, and Dave Strider, Jade Harley and John Egbert," she pointed to each in turn, "are officially declaring a paper war on all of you. The Neighborhood is now completely, utterly against the Alternia." She stepped smoothly back, (no small feat considering those shoes) to survey the effect her words would have. There were mostly a lot of stunned and blank faces. It was all very dramatic until Eridan decided to open his mouth.

"The Neighborhood," he muttered. "What kind of a pussy name is that?"

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed some differentiations in the character's personalities here than how they behave in the comics. the reason is because they're older. Mid twenties, and therefore, have matured. John still retains some of his silliness, but isn't about to pull a cake out and fling it at Jade's face. Rose is a fashionista, Dave is still a coolkid (and really hard to write- I'd appreciate advice), and Jade is a little insecure but much to kind.
> 
> Chapters will be told in different character's of P.O.V's. The next one, for instance, will be told by Karkat. I chose Jade because her relationship with Byrd (who is Davesprite and has issues) is a pretty major thing. 
> 
> OTHER CHARACTERS WILL APPEAR EVENTUALLY! I'll get to them, promise! If you have any characterization advice, please give it. Another thing-the rating will go up. There will be sex scenes. Graphic f/f and m/m and f/m ones. I'll let you know when these occur in the beginning notes. Thank you for reading these and the story. It is majorly cool to have anyone, whether you like it or not, reading this, Thanks!
> 
> And rest assured, there will be strip poker, which I need to learn how to play. Yay.


End file.
